


Blinding Lights

by Green



Category: Invisible Man (TV 2000)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Quicksilver Madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-26
Updated: 2010-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-12 05:18:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU from Money For Nothing – Bobby takes off with a Quicksilver Mad Darien.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blinding Lights

"Where we gonna go, Fawkes?"

Darien slid his sunglasses down his nose with one finger, tilting his chin and giving him a look that was polished, in a slippery sort of way. Bobby knew he'd have to get used to the silver eyes, but it didn't make it any less creepy. He also knew Fawkes was doing it just to get under his skin.

"Five mil, Robert." Darien's voice was silky. "We can go anywhere, do anything we want."

Bobby gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead into the traffic. He told himself he was out of options. He'd heard what Claire had said, if the Agency caught up with them, they'd only be concerned with getting the gland now that Darien was in stage five of quicksilver madness, not caring if their (now former) agent was killed during the 'harvest'.

"You know I'd do it for you," Darien said. Fuck, he sounded so normal, there. "Partners, remember?"

As if he could forget. "I remember, my friend."

He'd just have to find a way to control this psychopathic version of Fawkes. His best friend had hurt enough people already. Bobby had to make sure he didn't end up killing anyone. This Darien wouldn't care one way or the other, but the man he loved – the man he had to believe was still inside – wouldn't want that to happen.

***

They changed vehicles quickly, both of them understanding that if Big Brother wanted to keep tabs on you, they'd find a way to do it. The van was probably outfitted with a bug, anyway. There were eyes in the skies, and they both agreed that it wouldn't be long before the entire government was advertising the need to bring them both in. Darien, for the gland, that fucking precious commodity that had gotten them into this mess in the first place. And Bobby himself, for a long list of things that probably included aiding and abetting, stealing government property, and even fucking treason, which he was pretty sure still carried the penalty of death. There was no turning back now, even if he'd wanted to.

They crossed state lines while bullshitting about starting cults, or even a Revolution, which Darien got a kick out of talking about. It all felt insanely – heh, maybe the wrong word, there – normal. There was some discussion about leaving the country, finding some sandy beach to laze around on. But they bypassed all the airport signs and kept heading east, and Bobby kept up his end of the conversation, hoping that for now it would be enough to keep Darien's thoughts occupied enough so he wouldn't be dreaming up his next adrenaline rush.

Talking wouldn't work forever, though. When Fawkes complained that he needed to take a leak, Bobby handcuffed him and escorted him into the men's room at the next rest stop.

"Kinky," Darien remarked, but he didn't sound particularly aggravated. He actually smirked, and Bobby snapped at him to just hurry up and piss already. He turned his head away, more to hide the heat in his face than to respect Darien's sense of non-existent modesty.

After that incident, they drove on and talked about how to throw off their scent from the Agency's dogs. They came up with a pretty decent plan.

First, they located an airport and a train station. They parked at the airport and stole a car in short-term parking. Bobby drove the stolen car to the train station and bought two tickets south, while Fawkes bought two headed out to Europe. Then they met up outside the station in a newly acquired car Darien had acquired from the airport's long term parking ("Engine was still warm," Darien said with a smirk) and continued east. It would hopefully be enough to have the bloodhounds running in circles and barking up the wrong trees for a while.

"You didn't make any trouble, did you?" Bobby asked mildly. Inside he was panicking a little, stomach feeling sour.

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies." Darien pulled his shades down again to give Bobby another glint of silver.

"If you don't stop doing that, I'm gonna pop those suckers out with my thumbs."

Darien snorted but he pushed the sunglasses back up.

***

When Bobby was finally too exhausted to drive any further, he pulled off an exit and found a cheap family-owned motel that took cash and didn't ask questions. Bobby signed in under the name J. Cricket, a little inside joke between himself and his cracked-up mind.

Darien didn't seem tired in the least bit, and Bobby knew better than to fall asleep with handcuffs as the only deterrent.

"Be right back," Bobby mumbled, then grabbed a few extra sheets from the housekeeper's cart parked a few doors down from their room. He returned and made strips of fabric with his pocket knife, then twisted the strips together to make them stronger.

"Whatcha doin' there, partner?" Darien drawled.

Bobby gave him a level gaze. "Making sure I can get some rest."

When he was finished with the makeshift restraints, Darien smirked at him. He allowed Bobby to tie him down, even suggested he make the bindings a little tighter.

"You getting off on this, Fawkes?"

"Just thinking of all the possibilities," Darien answered innocently.

Bobby tried not to blush, he really did, but there was no hiding it. No hiding the erection he was suddenly sporting, either, and Darien's smirk became even wider.

"Why, Robert, I had no idea!" The crazy bastard was enjoying himself.

"Not one more word," Bobby said between clenched teeth.

"Or you'll ... what? Punish me?"

"Shut up. You're on thin ice already, my friend. Thin. Ice."

"I wouldn't object to a little punishment. I know I deserve it," Darien said, his voice reaching new heights of flirtatiousness. "And even if I did object, it's not like I could stop you." He pulled meaningfully against his restraints.

Bobby glared at him, wishing this conversation would just go away, because it was affecting him in ways he never would have counted on. He avoided Darien's grin and kicked his shoes off.  
"Robert," Darien said in a sing-song way that sounded more like Rah-berrrttt.

Bobby closed his eyes tight and settled down on his own bed. "Sleep!"

"You sound so commanding. Makes me shiver all over."

Bobby swallowed and tried to discreetly rearrange his erection to a more comfortable position.

"I could help with that, you know," Darien said.

"What would help is if you'd shut the fuck up and let me get some sleep. We've still got a couple thousand miles to cover, and if I crash the car on the interstate, we'll both be toast. Unless you don't care about that, either."

"You wound me."

"I'm gonna wound you if you don't be quiet."

"Sounds like a promise. Maybe that's what I need. You want to hurt me?"

"Right now? Yes."

"So get over here and do it."

"You're insane."

"Yeah," Darien said with a happy sigh. "But that just makes it so much better, you know?"

Bobby didn't answer.

Darien pouted. "I'm starting to think the magic's gone out of our relationship."

"What will it take for you to shut up and let me sleep? A fucking gag?" Obviously the wrong thing to say; he knew it before Darien even opened his mouth to answer.

"Hmm." Darien had managed to get his sunglasses off and was staring at the ceiling while he pretended to think. "What will it take to make me leave you alone? Let's see. Well, you could fuck me, which would take care of both your problems," he mused, "but I don't think you're ready for that."

Bobby didn't know if he should be shocked, defensive, or disappointed.

When Darien turned his head, his eyes glowed like polished steel. "Or you could just kiss me."

Bobby stared at him for a long time. At his eyes, at the way his lean body was held by the twisted, knotted sheets. It shouldn't have been so fucking hot, but it was, and he didn't know what to do with the feeling.

"C'mon, Bobby," Darien said, breaking the silence. "Just one little kiss, and I promise I'll leave you alone the rest of the night."

There were so many things wrong with the scenario that if Bobby started thinking about it at length, he'd go as crazy as Fawkes.

"One kiss," Bobby mumbled, and he was straddling Darien before he knew it, staring down into what felt like an abyss.

"Just one," Darien assured him softly, and then licked his lips.

Bobby intended to give him just a little peck, but the moment his lips brushed against lips, Darien was leaning up and opening his mouth under Bobby's, tongue sweeping across and pushing in with a moan.

"Little shit," Bobby reprimanded, then proceeded to punish Darien by taking control, his teeth and tongue pressing hard against and inside Darien's mouth, causing more moaning and a surprisingly submissive whimper.

Bobby broke the kiss and, just to be evil, ground his erection against Darien's own hard cock.

"Now you're gonna let me sleep," he said, leaning down once more to bite Darien on the neck – just a reminder – before getting up and returning to his own, much colder, bed.

Darien's voice came out as a little admiring gasp. "Nice punishment."

Exhausted as Bobby was, even in the ensuing quiet, it took him a while to fall off into sleep.

***

Neither of them said a word about the night before as they drove on. Surprisingly enough, Darien hadn't even made a wisecrack when Bobby untied him and let his thumbs gently run over the bruises on Darien's ankles and wrists. Bobby was sure his arousal was pretty apparent, but by then Darien was hiding behind his dark glasses again and Bobby couldn't pick up on his reaction.

Even now, as they drove, Darien was unusually quiet. The inside of the car was full of silent tension and – at least on Bobby's side – fantasies and lust and unspoken thoughts that would remain that way if he had anything at all to do with it.

Trying to get his mind off the obvious, Bobby blasted the radio until the whole car shook with the baseline. The music wasn't to Bobby's normal taste, but it was loud and served to drown out at least some of his thoughts.

Bobby kept his eyes on the road, but he could feel Darien's gaze on him. It annoyed him and angered him, and it made him so horny he was this close to reaching over the middle console and smacking Darien in the face.

The tension only grew worse when Trent Reznor came on the radio and started singing about fucking like animals.

Bobby hit the steering wheel with both palms, again and again, before pulling over and dragging Darien out of the car.

"You're such a little shit for this," Bobby growled, but Darien wasn't doing anything except smirking and letting himself be pushed against the side of the car. "I hate this. I fucking hate this." He punctuated his last sentence by grabbing Darien by the shoulders and pulling him down for a brutal kiss.

He broke away when he felt Darien's hands at his fly. Darien managed to look seductive and knowing and pleading all at once.

"But you love me," he said before dropping to his knees and swallowing down Bobby's cock like a pro.

***

The rest of the trip progressed like that, with Bobby in turns angry at himself and angry with Darien, and Darien making it up to him with deceptive submissiveness.

By the time they reached New York City, Bobby had convinced himself he had Fawkes under control, and they could go on like this indefinitely without any problems.

It pained him, and excited him, and distracted him from the simple fact that Darien had no conscience now – or at least if he had one, it was pretty warped. Much like their relationship.

But Darien seemed to read him and would take those doubts away with a simple look, or a whimper, or a, "Fuck, I need you Bobby." Bobby wanted Darien to need him, wanted to know he was something, anything, to the other man.

They settled into a mid-range apartment in the lower east-side, and Bobby again wondered at the feeling of normalcy that brought him. They picked out furniture, electronics, bought some new clothes since the ones they'd gotten at the odd convenience store or K-Mart along the way really weren't either of their styles. It seemed so fucking domestic. He swore he'd draw the line at fabric swatches or wallpaper books.

It went on like that for about a month, until Bobby turned his back, got too comfortable, and then Darien pulled a vanishing act.

Trying to hunt down an invisible man who didn't want to be found – in the midst of millions of people and millions of opportunities for Darien's idea of fun and games – was impossible. At least, Bobby reasoned, he'd left his millions of dollars. Probably Darien's idea of collateral. It gave Bobby at least the reassurance that he'd be back. He shoved away the nagging thought that Fawkes could always get more, and that maybe the duffel full of cash was some sort of payoff. It made him feel expendable. Bobby didn't want to think of himself, of them, like that.

After the first day, Bobby started worrying about what Darien was capable of, and wondering just what the hell he was doing. It made him angry – again – at himself for not keeping Fawkes under control, and at Fawkes for running off in the first place.

After the second day, he was blaming himself entirely.

On about the fifth day after Darien had left, blame had shifted entirely to the fucking gland in Darien's head, and he was more worried about Darien slipping up and getting caught and killed than anything he might've been doing.

That hit Bobby like a truck-load of bricks. He realized that he cared more about Darien's life than the life of any victim the man might be leaving in his wake. When had that happened? Sure, the whole point of their flight from 'justice' had been to keep Darien alive and safe, but had the cost always been so high? Bobby could admit he'd put his own life on the line in a heartbeat, had known it from the start, but shit, this was different.

He was worried that as long as Darien was alive and well, he might not even care anymore.

***

"You fuck!" were the first words out of Bobby's mouth when Darien finally showed up after being gone a full six days and seven nights. Bobby wanted to punctuate his words with a right hook straight into Darien's face, but held back, just barely.

"Bobby ..."

"You think you can just leave me like that?"

"Bobby, I'm sorry ..."

"You're damned right you are!" Bobby yelled, tackling him to the floor. He didn't know if he wanted to hurt him or just hold on to him so tight he couldn't leave again.

"How the hell am I supposed to keep you safe if you run off like that?" Bobby asked. "Do you have any idea how that made me feel?" Bobby wrapped his arms around him, like somehow that would protect him. Protect the both of them. "They could have caught up with you. They'll kill you, Fawkes, and you're out playing games and probably taking a ton of risks and ..." His throat tightened. "I thought you left me. Fuck you, you bastard," he said, and realized he was crying all over Darien's neck.

"I would never," Darien began before Bobby cut him off.

"But you did," Bobby accused. He knew his voice was breaking, and he was trying valiantly not to just sob then and there. Darien somehow got them up and led Bobby a few steps over to the couch and they both sort of huddled together, face to face. It was a tight fit, but Bobby didn't care. The closer, the better.

"I came back," Darien said softly, as if that made it okay. "I'll always come back, Bobby."

"You aren't ..." Bobby stopped and then slapped the back of Darien's head. "You aren't doing this again. You will not. Understand?"

"There's this ... I can't control it."

"If you'd let me ..."

"I don't want it controlled. I like it, Bobby. I like being able to ..." He let his words trail off and his eyes pleaded with him to understand.

Bobby wanted to scream, 'Even if it means losing me?' but he was too unsure, too scared of what the answer would be. Instead, he said, "Then the next time you have to go, you take me with you."

Darien scooted down and put his head against Bobby's chest. "I can't let you ... I can't let you see me like that."

"Why?" Bobby asked softly, running a hand through Darien's hair.

"You know why." Darien tried to distract him by licking and nipping at his neck.

Bobby sighed and held Darien's body tightly against his own. "I can't go through this again," he said. "I just can't."

"Please don't do this," Darien said, holding on just as tight. "Don't make me choose."

"I'm not."

"It sounds like you are."

"I'm not, Fawkes."

Darien pulled back and Bobby reluctantly let him.

"What are you talking about?" Darien asked. His eyes, once the freakiest thing Bobby had ever seen, were an absolutely beautiful sight.

"You aren't going to lose me," Bobby answered, cupping the side of Darien's face with one hand.

"But I ..."

"I don't need to know the details. Not right now, Fawkes. I know the way it is with you."

"Don't tell me it doesn't matter to you, Robert, because I know that's a fucking lie."

"It matters," Bobby conceded. "It just doesn't matter as much as this."

"This?"

"You. Us."

"Oh," Darien looked confused. "No shit? Why? I mean, I know why I don't care, but why do you ..."

Bobby ignored the question. "We need some rules."

Darien stiffened. "I don't do too well with rules, Robert. Or have you forgotten in my lengthy absence?"

"Shut up. You might be thinking of your 'absence' as a little vacation to Disney World, but it was absolute hell for me, do you do not get to talk to me like that right now, my friend." He winced. "Fuck, I can't handle this, it's making me crazy."

Darien still looked stunned from the initial statement. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, backtracking. "I didn't think ..."

"No, you damned well didn't think. And if you interrupt me again, I'm going to gag you for real this time." Bobby closed his eyes. When had it come to this? Christ, he'd never wanted this. It was so fucked up, so obviously unhealthy. He didn't need to be a shrink to see that. "I'm not playing around here, Fawkes," he said tiredly. "You're going to shut your mouth and listen to me for once."

Darien gave a mute nod.

"Okay then," Bobby said, feeling slightly better now that Darien was being quiet and he didn't want to kill him at the moment. "Rule number one. You aren't ever going to leave here like that again. Not without me. I don't care if you're going on a killing spree in a convent; I'm going to be there." God, he hoped it wouldn't come to that. "Because I don't trust you to be careful and you need someone to watch your back, and if something happens and the Agency tracks you down, I'm going to be there at your side even if they have to shoot through me to get to you and that fucking gland."

Darien's look of shock was priceless. "You can't possibly mean that," he said quietly. "I know you, Bobby. I know you don't want me to ..."

"Shut. Up." Bobby put his hand to Darien's throat and lightly ran his fingers over the cool skin there. "You're right. I don't want you to. But if you have to ..." He pulled away and sighed.

"You'll hate me," Darien whispered. "You'll leave me."

Bobby deflated, shaking his head and leaning in to kiss Darien softly. "No." His whisper matched Darien's. It occurred to him that maybe they were both like this, needing each other. Maybe it wasn't just him.

Darien swallowed. "You don't trust me." He said it like it was a fact, like there were no in-between spaces or shades of gray. "You can't trust me."

"But I love you," Bobby said. "And that's going to have to be enough."


End file.
